


The Angels Get A Better View

by lit_chick08



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Multi, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 20:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alaric thought he was past her; he was wrong</p>
<p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/372864">The Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Angels Get A Better View

Alaric thought he was hallucinating.

In the beginning, when he had first left Mystic Falls, he saw her everywhere. She was the girl filling her tank at the pump beside him, the cashier at the liquor store, the housewife walking her dog; like a psychic who read tea leaves, Alaric Saltzman was able to divine Elena Gilbert’s face in any other he glimpsed. His parents were convinced he had finally lost it, none-too-gently offering to pay for counseling, thinking he was still wracked by the pain of Isobel’s “disappearance.” He had gone only once, laying out the details of what had transpired in Mystic Falls; when he was finished, the therapist stated her belief that he required much more intensive counseling for what were clearly “deviant behaviors.”

Alaric knew he was many things – teacher, widower, vampire hunter, betrayer, forbidden lover – but he did not consider himself a deviant. And what was worse, he did not want the therapist to twist what he had shared with Elena into some complicated explanation of deviance, a manifestation of grief or psychosis or whatever else she would twist it into.

And so he started to put his life back together, a slow and painful process far different from when he had done it in Virginia. This time he did not spend his free-time making stakes and vervain grenades, researching mysterious deaths or prowling the streets looking for hints of supernatural activity; he took a job tending bar until a teaching position opened up, he hooked up with old friends still in the area, he went on blind dates with the daughters of his parents’ friends. When an adjunct position opened in the history department of a local college, Alaric called in every favor he had, exhausted the system of nepotism alive and well in Boston, and managed to secure a job teaching three classes a week.

He met Meredith Sulez on his first day. She was a lecturer in the Women Studies department on loan from another college in the area; Alaric stood in the back of the lecture hall as she discussed women and pop culture, articulately expounding upon point after point while also making the group of women in the class laugh at her dry humor. He was captivated by her intelligence, introducing himself after class and complimenting her on the lecture. Meredith had smiled before digging out a business card, suggesting he call her for a drink sometime.

It wasn’t until he met her at an Irish pub the following weekend just how much she _actually_ looked like Elena.

Their skin was the same shade of olive brown, their hair the same deep, rich tone, their eyes chocolate brown; for the first few minutes of the date, Alaric could barely focus on what Meredith was saying, so troubled by the obvious resemblance. When Meredith commented on his weirdness, he had blushed and mumbled, “You look like someone I used to know.”

“Friend, foe, or lover?”

Alaric had shrugged and changed the subject, unready to delve into the minefield of Elena Gilbert on the first date. Later that evening, when he moved in to kiss Meredith, she twisted her head away and brushed her lips across his cheek.

“You’re kind of a mess, Ric,” she said good-naturedly, touching his arm tenderly. “And while I think you’re a good guy, I don’t make it a habit of dating messes.”

“I’m not,” he objected, feeling the first stirrings of actual indignation in months. “Let me prove it to you.”

That was three years ago. He and Meredith lived together in her townhouse now, a small but tasteful engagement ring on her finger, and Alaric Saltzman was genuinely happy for the first time in years.

At least, that’s what he thought until he started to hallucinate Elena Gilbert outside his office.

He had not seen Elena in almost four years, not since that awful day he left Mystic Falls, worldly possessions in the backseat, reputation and life in tatters. They said their goodbyes, he confessed his love, and then he drove away, leaving her to sob on the curb outside his apartment building. He threw away his cell phone somewhere in Maryland when she began to send him pleading messages to return, her watery appeals filling his voicemail to the breaking point. Sometimes he wondered how many messages she left before stopping, how frequently she begged him to come back to her despite the cost.

Alaric wanted to call her selfish and spoiled, but she was only seventeen; what seventeen-year-old _wasn’t_ selfish and spoiled?

For the first few weeks he stalked the Mystic Falls newspaper online, checking the obituaries to see if his friends survived. Other than a small paragraph devoted to the werewolf named Jules and Greta Martin, Alaric found no familiar names amongst the dead. He checked periodically that first year, idly scrolling through the minutiae of Mystic Falls, when he came across Elena’s picture on the front page. It was a candid shot with Caroline, attached to a story about the senior class helping out with a civic event, but it nearly tore Alaric apart to see her grinning widely in the sunlight, happy, healthy, and safe, so far from him.

Alaric quit looking after that.

The woman outside his office did not look like the teenager he last glimpsed in pixilated form. While still svelte, there were more pronounced curves to her body, the result of putting back on the weight she had lost in the wake of her parents’ deaths. Her skin was still dark and smooth, delightfully on display in the sundress she wore, legs impossibly lengthened by heels. The waist length hair he once loved so desperately now fell to her shoulders in a tumble of natural curls, no longer straightened to differentiate from her vampire doppelganger. But most of all, she just looked… _older_.

Alaric was still firmly stuck in fight-or-flight mode when Elena finally saw him, a shy, tentative smile crossing her lips. It was the smile more than anything else that let Alaric know he was not imagining her, that it really _was_ Elena.

“I would’ve called but…” 

Her voice was the same, the husky tremble triggering the memory of the same voice calling out his name in pleasure. Alaric was certain he was going to vomit.

The smile on her face melted away as she looked at him, and Alaric suddenly wished he had a better poker face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”

She had already turned to go before Alaric found his voice. “No, Elena, wait.”

Elena turned back, suddenly looking far younger than her twenty-one years. She didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for him to lead the way.

Alaric had always been the one to lead them into hell; the shame he had buried so deeply began to rear its head.

“I have some time before my next class.” He gestured to his office door, digging the keys out of his pocket. “We can catch up.”

He made a conscience effort to not touch her as they entered his closet of an office, which still smelled strongly of mildew despite the air fresheners Meredith put in it. Some days it made him long for his classroom at Mystic Falls High; he had always imagined being a professor to have a little more glamour and a little less water damage.

“Professor Saltzman,” Elena began with a playful smile on her face. “Definitely a step up from dance chaperone and occasional teacher.”

“Doesn’t suck,” he acknowledged as he sank into the chair behind his desk, gesturing for her to sit.

For an awkward beat, they sat in silence before Alaric asked, “What brings you to Boston?”

“Bonnie and I finished classes last week, and she’s always wanted to go to Salem, see where her ancestors came from, so we decided to take a road trip. We’re here for a few more days, but there’s only so much witch lore a girl can take before boredom takes over.”

“Caroline didn’t come?”

“She’s in Europe with Stefan. He promised to take her anywhere she wanted to go for her twenty-first birthday, and she came up with this extensive list of European landmarks. They’ll probably be there until December.”

There was something in her tone that tugged at him. “Are Caroline and Stefan…?”

“Together?” she filled in with a smirk. “Yeah, for about two years now. They’re actually kind of amazing together. He calms her down, she brings out the fun in him. I’m pretty sure he’s going to propose when they go to Paris.”

Alaric’s head was swimming at the nonchalance in Elena’s voice, at the way she described her best friend’s relationship with the vampire she once loved. He knew intellectually four years had passed, but he could not imagine a world where Caroline Forbes and Stefan Salvatore were in love.

“Wow, that’s…Sounds like a lot has changed.”

Elena shrugged. “It’s Mystic Falls. Some things change but it mostly stays the same.”

“What’s Damon doing?”

A genuine laugh bubbled free from her lips. “Damon is one of Sheriff Forbes’s deputies and the head of the Founders’ Council.”

“No way.”

She nodded with a giggle. “He left for awhile but came back six months later and was all about the civic pride. I mean, he doesn’t wear the uniform or anything, though Caroline and I have bribed Elijah with everything we have to compel to do it.”

“Elijah? Elijah’s still in Mystic Falls?”

“Not anymore but he stuck around for awhile after…” She trailed off, hand unconsciously covering her stomach. “He keeps in touch.”

Alaric had not talked about vampires in years, had tried to force himself into forgetting he knew anything about what lived in the shadows. But he couldn’t help but ask, “How did you avoid the sacrifice?”

Elena lifted her head, sadness in her eyes. “We didn’t. Klaus nearly killed all of us before Bonnie and Greta stopped him. If Damon hadn’t given me blood, I would’ve died.” Waving her hands as if she wanted to clear the words away, she sighed, “It’s all in the past and I don’t really like to think about it.”

Alaric nodded in understanding. “You’re in college now?”

“Double major in literature and sociology at Duke.”

“Duke?” he echoed, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

“Duke,” she confirmed with a grin. “What can I say? It made an impression.” Gesturing to their surroundings, she asked, “Do you like it here?”

He talked for a few minutes about his job, the aspects he enjoyed and what he didn’t, before realizing she was straining to see the photograph on his desk. Pausing, he picked up the frame and handed it to her, allowing her to examine the photo of him and Meredith in Hawaii.

“Girlfriend?”

“Fiance,” he corrected, pretending not to notice the way she seemed to flinch from the word. “Her name’s Meredith; she’s a professor too.”

Elena handed the picture back to him, her mouth twisting as if she was trying to force a smile and was unable to succeed. “You look really happy.”

“We are,” he admitted, hating the guilt he felt for saying it. “Are you – “

“Just me,” she interrupted. 

The deafening silence which descended made Alaric want to scream, to purge himself of everything he had wanted to say to her four years earlier and had imagined saying a thousand times. He hated the strain between them now; there had been a time when Elena Gilbert had been the only person with whom he could speak freely.

They were strangers now.

“I should go,” Elena suddenly declared, getting to her feet, smoothing down her skirt. “It was nice to see you, Alaric.”

He stood, resisting the urge to ask her to stay. “How did you know I was here?”

Elena chuckled mirthlessly. “I Googled you. There aren’t exactly a lot of Alaric Saltzmans in the world.”

“You Googled me?” he echoed with a smile. “Why?”

She nodded, averting her gaze. “I think about what happened a lot, how everything went down, and I just…” Lifting her head, Alaric saw the tears in her eyes. “You never called.”

“Elena…”

She held up her hands, gesturing for him to stop. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy because you deserve it. And I guess I just…I just needed to see that what happened…between _us_ …that it didn’t ruin things for you. So I’ll leave now and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Wait!” he ordered, coming out from behind the desk, knowing he was tempting fate even as he did it. Stopping before her, making sure to keep a careful distance between them, Alaric sighed, “You never ruined anything for me, Elena.”

“Jenna ran you out of town because of what happened! How is that not my fault?!”

“Because I’m a grown man who pursued _you_.” Rubbing tiredly at his face, at his face, he struggled for words for a moment before deciding on, “What happened between us was a lot of things but it wasn’t your fault. And I don’t want you to think I blame you for anything because I _never_ did and I _never_ will.”

“Really?” 

“Really.”

Elena cracked a smile, tucking a curl behind her ear. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to say this but…it was never the same after you left. But I’m glad you’re happy, that you found someone.”

“Are you? Happy,” he clarified at her confused look.

“I’m twenty-one-years-old. These are the best years of my life, right?” With a self-conscious shrug, she said, “I really should go if I want to beat the traffic. Like I said, I’ll be in Salem for a few more days. My number’s the same if…you want to get dinner with me and Bonnie or something.”

And then she was gone, leaving Alaric standing alone, the lingering scent of her perfume the only hint she had ever been there at all.

* * *

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Meredith commented as Alaric entered the kitchen, twisting away from the wok to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

Alaric loved Meredith; of this, he was certain. She had loved him when he was at his most broken and helped put him back together again, and Alaric would never be able to adequately express the amount of love he had for her. Their relationship was without a doubt the easiest and most relaxing of Alaric’s life; Meredith was refreshingly low-drama and incapable of doing anything but being direct. They were _good_ together and he had never felt a moment’s hesitation in his decision to propose.

It was also why he decided early on he would not allow himself to make the same mistakes he had made with Jenna, namely keeping secrets. Certain details were omitted – Isobel’s vampirism, his stint as a vampire hunter – but he had been honest in every other regard.

Which was why, when she made her observation, he admitted, “It kind of feels like I did.”

Pouring him a glass of wine, she quirked an eyebrow, waiting.

“Elena showed up at my office today.”

“Elena? Virginia Elena?”

They had been dating for a few months when Meredith asked why he had left Virginia. Alaric had assumed she would break up with him after he confessed to his affair with Elena, whom he only identified as one of his students and certainly not as his wife’s biological daughter or girlfriend’s niece. Instead Meredith had been quiet for a few beats before drawling, “You never struck me as such a cliché,” before swearing she’d leave in a heartbeat if he ever decided to play at being Humbert Humbert again.

“Virginia Elena,” he confirmed, taking a large swallow from his glass. 

“What did she want?”

Alaric shrugged. “She said she was in the area, looked me up, wanted to see how I was.”

Removing the vegetables from the heat, Meredith asked, “You think it was more than that?”

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to make sure she hadn’t ruined things for me.” Throwing back the wine the way he used to throw back bourbon, he admitted, “I think she felt guilty about what happened.”

“Well, of course she did. She was a teenage girl; they tend to blame themselves for everything.” Pulling plates out of the cupboard, she inquired, “Did _you_ apologize?”

“Yeah, of course, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know.” Smiling wanly, he quickly changed the subject, the image of a departing Elena on replay in his mind.

* * *

“What’s she like?” 

Alaric rolled over in bed, looking at Meredith through the darkness. “Who?”

“Your Lolita,” she teased with a smirk. “What’s she like?” When he was quiet for a beat, she added, “You never talk about her. I’m unbearably curious.”

“What was she like then or now?”

“Whichever.”

“She’s a double major at Duke, she’s on a road trip with her best friend,” he ticked off. “What else do you want to know?”

“Anything. What’s she look like? What was it about her that made you pull a Mary Kay Letourneau?”

Alaric sighed, shifting uncomfortably, unsure how to quantify his attraction to Elena Gilbert. Finally, he decided on, “She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She had this way about her…like she could make everything okay if you would just let her. And she was smart, so much smarter than anyone gave her credit for being; but she was also the strongest person I had ever met. Her parents were killed in a car accident and she almost died with them; the world kept piling all of this shit on her and she just…I wanted to be half as resilient as she was, half as certain about anything.”

“You were in love with her,” Meredith interpreted, her voice soft with surprise.

“No,” Alaric instantly objected, though even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“You loved her,” Meredith repeated, her words remarkably free of judgment. “It’s okay to say it.”

He pushed himself into a sitting position, turning his back to his fiancé as he lowered his head into his hands. “None of this is okay, Mere.”

Alaric felt her move behind him, carefully encircling his waist with her arms, her chin settling into the curve of his shoulder. He wanted to pull away, embarrassed she had to see him like this, hating that they were even having this discussion; Alaric never wanted Meredith to know this part of him, the messy, unethical man who had slept with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

Fuck, that _was_ his stepdaughter.

“It’s natural if you still feel something for her,” Meredith breathed against his neck, her voice as matter-of-fact as it was when she was lecturing her students. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it, not with me.”

Alaric barely resisted the urge to wince. “Meredith…”

“Don’t shut me out, Ric. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

_I’m thinking I didn’t realize how much I missed her until she was right in front of me, and I couldn’t even think of a single thing to say._

“She seemed so sad,” he finally settled on, verbalizing what bothered him most about the short amount of time he had spent with Elena.

Alaric was willing to do anything to see Elena happy.

He couldn’t tell Meredith that.

* * *

Alaric only had one photograph of Elena. He kept it pressed between the pages of an old Greek history text, hidden away amongst descriptions of events long forgotten. Jeremy had taken it one night early on in his relationship with Jenna, long before his relationship with Elena had progressed past anything more than friendship. Elena was seated at the island in the Gilbert kitchen, Alaric was leaning against the counter, and they were just talking, frozen in time mid-conversation. There was nothing particularly special about the picture, but it was the simple intimacy of it which made Alaric hold on to it even after he and Meredith got together.

It was different from the photos he kept of Isobel, appropriately kept in albums, placed in storage because, as much as he hated what his wife had become in the end, Alaric could not bring himself to get rid of every trace of the woman he had once loved. It was _acceptable_ to keep photos of your dead wife, _appropriate_ even.

There was nothing appropriate about keeping Elena Gilbert’s picture.

Alaric never called her, resolute in his decision not to tempt fate in that way.

It was better for Elena Gilbert to remain a bittersweet memory.

* * *

Six weeks later, as the July heat began to give way to August humidity, Meredith came home and cracked open their world.

“In a case of ‘It’s a Small World After All,’” she began as they sat down to dinner, “guess who received an invitation from the Historical Society of Mystic Falls, Virginia, to speak at their Women’s Luncheon event?”

Alaric nearly choked on his steak, quickly swallowing his wine in hopes of soothing his throat. “What?”

Meredith explained that Mayor Carol Lockwood had called her earlier in the day off the recommendation of a professor at the University of Richmond. The Historical Society was looking for someone to speak about the changing roles of women in society, which just so happened to be the topic of Meredith’s latest book. 

“When I mentioned I was your fiancé, Mayor Lockwood fell all over herself praising you and your wonderful civic pride while you lived there. You never told me you were in a bachelor auction,” Meredith teased, popping a piece of pepper into her mouth.

“You’re going to do it?”

Meredith nodded. “I don’t have any other speaking engagements lined up, the good Mayor said she’d pay all the expenses, _and_ I’m insanely intrigued about the little ‘burb from which you came. Carol said I should bring you along.”

Alaric would have preferred walking through hot coals before ever setting foot in Mystic Falls again.

Somehow he heard himself agree anyway.

* * *

It was like falling back in time.

Elena had been right; Mystic Falls was essentially the same as when he left it. A few storefronts were different, the Grill had changed its sign, there were new parking meters, but it was still the same sleepy town which celebrated the past with vigor and classified all mysterious deaths as animal attacks.

Meredith was fascinated by it, especially the focus on the town Founders. Alaric was so used to the fixation, he didn’t realize how rare it was until he saw his fiancé start to take notes; like most things in Mystic Falls, Alaric simply accepted it was a way of life and dismissed it out of hand.

He certainly didn’t want to consider the implications of having become a citizen of Mystic Falls in the fullest sense of the word.

They checked into Mrs. Flowers Bed-and-Breakfast before Meredith insisted on being shown around town. Alaric drove the roads Jenna taught him, pointing out landmarks and offering little tidbits of knowledge, before pulling into the Grill for dinner. They had barely crossed the threshold when he caught sight of Damon and Elena back at the pool table, the vampire’s body draped across hers as he playfully attempted to show her how to hold the cue. Elena was giggling, squirming away and squealing his name in irritation, and Alaric suddenly realized how desperately he needed a drink.

Matt Donovan was behind the bar, his eyes wide with surprise as he stuttered out, “Hey, Mr. Saltzman. Welcome back.”

Alaric saw Damon’s head jerk up from the corner of his eye; it took everything he had not to immediately run for the door.

They had just ordered drinks when Damon sauntered up to the table and drawled, “You return from exile and don’t call your best friend? That’s just cold, man.”

As strange as it was, Alaric had missed Damon. Even after all that had transpired between them, Damon was remarkably constant, one of the few unwavering individuals in Alaric’s life. And, while he suspected Elena didn’t know it, Damon and he had kept in touch for the first few years after his departure.

“Careful, Damon; it might sound like you care.”

Damon scoffed before turning his attention on Meredith, his most charming smile stretching across his face. “Forgive his rudeness. I’m Damon Salvatore and you are…”

“Unimpressed,” Meredith replied, shocking the smile right off of Damon’s face. “But you can call me Meredith.”

Alaric couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at Meredith’s fearlessness followed quickly by concern Damon was going to retaliate. Instead, his friend smiled blandly and offered, “Why don’t you guys join me and Elena? We’d love the company.”

“Elena?” Meredith echoed, her eyebrows arching.

Alaric wanted to die.

Elena was seated at a table near the wall, idly stirring her soda as she picked at her curly fries. Alaric wished Meredith had never agreed to this stupid lecture, that he would never have to witness the tremor in Elena’s hand as she extended it towards Meredith and introduced herself.

His fiancé graciously introduced herself, her inherent inquisitiveness in full bloom as she took stock of Elena, who squirmed beneath the attention. Damon dropped into the booth beside her, his hand almost casually caressing the knee left bare by her shorts, and it took everything inside of Alaric not to demand to know what was going on between them, what their relationship was now.

He knew it was not his place.

This did not stop him from scowling like a petulant child and ordering the first bourbon he had since meeting Meredith.

“So when are you two getting married?” Damon asked as they finished their meals.

They hadn’t discussed wedding plans since he proposed eight months earlier; Meredith was by her own admission the “least bridal woman on the planet” and Alaric didn’t feel the need to rush. 

It was for that very reason he was genuinely stunned when Meredith volunteered, “Probably in the spring.”

Alaric couldn’t help but notice the way Elena seemed to fold in on herself at the pronouncement.

He wished he didn’t feel the need to apologize.

* * *

“So that was Elena,” Meredith said as they drove to Mrs. Flowers’s, the radio playing low in the background.

Alaric nodded, unsure what the right response was, struggling to focus on anything other than the past two hours.

“I like her.”

He had never doubted she would; everyone loved Elena.

That had always been the problem.

* * *

He found Jenna completely by accident. 

Meredith was meeting with Carol to finalize details for her talk, and Alaric decided to walk around town, tired of being cooped up in their room and dodging Mrs. Flowers. He had just crossed the square when he noticed a small storefront with carefully stenciled words on the glass: _Jenna Sommers, Individual and Family Therapist_.

He didn’t know what possessed him to enter the office, the bell dinging as he did so. The receptionist’s desk was empty but he could hear movement in what he presumed was Jenna’s office.

“Just a second!” she called from the back, words muffled, before appearing in the doorway, her welcoming smile quickly twisting into a mask of seething anger and disgust. “I heard you were in town.”

“Jenna – “

“I have nothing to say to you, Ric, so just – “

“Please, Jenna, I just want – “

“What, to justify what happened?” Crossing her arms angrily over her chest, she snapped, “You almost destroyed my family. Elena wouldn’t even come out of her room for the first three months; the only person who could even make her smile was Damon, and I couldn’t even offer some measure of compassion because I was so angry at her! Do you know what that was like, having to parent someone who slept with the man you wanted to marry?”

Alaric shook his head, suitably shamed.

“I know she saw you in Boston,” Jenna continued. “She told me before she left she was going to look you up. And I don’t know what happened there, but I _do_ know she cried herself to sleep last night after having dinner with you and your fiancé.”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” he murmured.

Jenna’s tough exterior floundered for a moment before declaring, “Then as soon as your girlfriend gets done speaking, leave and don’t come back.”

* * *

She was waiting on the porch of the Bed-and-Breakfast when he came back from his walk, a glass of iced tea in her hand, talking to Mrs. Flowers. Alaric froze mid-step, unsure what to do, before realizing he was acting like a total fucking _asshole_.

Mrs. Flowers excused herself, shuffling into the house, and Elena got to her feet, tucking her hands into her back pockets with a self-conscious grin.

“Katherine used to stay here when she was in town. Mrs. Flowers always thinks I’m her.”

“Where is Katherine now?”

Elena shrugged. “Mexico last I heard. Elijah keeps an eye on her but otherwise I’m pretty happy not knowing what my doppelganger is up to.”

For a moment they were both quiet, and Alaric could not help but hear Jenna’s words echoing in his head, _She cried herself to sleep last night_ and _leave and don’t come back_ featuring most prominently. Alaric was about to excuse himself when Elena asked, “You want to go for a walk?”

The correct answer was no.

Alaric nodded.

They ended up on the banks of Willow Creek, the water rushing steadily over the rocks. Alaric knew Wickery Bridge was several miles up the road, the scene of the Gilberts’ death, but Elena gave no indication of where her thoughts lied as she sank down onto the grass, gathering a handful of dandelions and stringing them together the way Alaric’s sisters did when they were young.

“When I was little, I used to come here whenever I needed to think,” Elena divulged, fingers working carefully at the stems. “The sound of the water was soothing.”

He eased down beside her, picking up a rock and skipping it briefly across the water. “It’s nice.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” she began, studiously keeping her gaze dropped. “Damon was jealous, and he shouldn’t have brought Meredith into it.”

“Jealous? Are you and Damon – “

“Sometimes,” she interrupted, plucking another dandelion from the grass. “Everyone else paired off: Caroline with Stefan, Bonnie with Jeremy. We were the last ones standing.” She shrugged. “He’s one of my best friends now but he…he wants more than what I can give him.”

“You don’t love him?”

“No, I do, but…The future I want for myself, Damon can never give to me. And honestly we’re only good together for, like, two months before we have to break up to keep from killing each other. It’s just…”

“Habit,” Alaric completed.

Elena nodded. “Something like that. But, anyway, he shouldn’t have involved Meredith. I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s fine. Meredith wanted to meet you.”

Elena’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “She knows about me?”

“I didn’t want to keep secrets.”

He didn’t add the “again,” but he knew Elena could hear its presence.

“She must think the worst about me.”

“No, she…she really liked you.”

A small, sad smile flickered across her lips. “I really like her too. I can see why you love her.”

He hated the fact he felt the need to apologize for loving Meredith.

“Why did you find me in Boston?” Alaric blurted out before he could think of the consequences such a question would reap.

Elena slipped the dandelion bracelet around her wrist, spinning the weeds for a moment before sighing, “Because you never came.”

Alaric said nothing; he wasn’t sure he remembered how to speak.

“I had this fantasy,” Elena began, her words carefully measured, “you would come back for me on my 18th birthday and we’d be together. I knew it wasn’t logical or likely but I hoped because…because I was _so_ in love with you. I didn’t even realize how much I loved you until you were gone, how much I had come to _depend_ on you. And so I kept looking you up, trying to figure out what I would say and how I could make you come back. And then…”

“Then what?”

“Then I realized you probably didn’t want to be found. You could’ve come back and you didn’t; so I tried to put you in the back of my mind like Jenna and the therapist said to do, and I went to college. And I go out with all kinds of guys and I try _so hard_ to feel it again, but I just can’t. So when Bonnie said she was going to Salem, I went along because I thought…maybe if you saw I wasn’t a kid anymore…”

Alaric heard the tremble in his voice as he asked, “What were you trying to feel again?”

Her cheeks flushed a brilliant pink before she admitted, “I think about that morning on your couch all the time. And the sex was good but that’s not…Afterward, you wrapped me up in this huge hug and you couldn’t stop kissing my shoulder. And all I could think was, ‘Oh, this is how it’s supposed to feel.’”

He hadn’t stopped kissing her shoulder because he had been terrified he would never get to kiss her again.

“Elena – “

“I _really_ am happy for you and Meredith,” she cut in, brushing away the tears on her cheeks. “Meredith is great, and you two are really good together. If I had known she was in the picture, I never would’ve shown up at your office. Please tell me you believe that.”

“Of course.”

After a tense, tearful beat, Elena rasped, “Did you ever think about me at all?”

He thought about her every day. Every single day he saw something or heard something which reminded him of Elena; in the beginning, he had kept long lists of things he would tell her about, topics for later discussion, jokes he thought she’d enjoy. After Meredith, it began to wane, but Elena was always in the back of his head.

“All the time,” he admitted, swallowing back tears of his own.

Elena rubbed at her eyes, a painful chuckle escaping her lips. “God, we have the _shittiest_ timing in the world.”

Alaric wasn’t inclined to disagree.

* * *

“You’re still in love with her.”

Alaric looked up from the papers he was grading to see Meredith standing in the entryway of his office, an almost pitying smile on her face.

“What? Mere, what’re you – “

Meredith closed the door Elena waited outside six months earlier and sank into the chair before his desk. “I’m not mad. I’m not even jealous. But I _am_ honest, and I need you to be, too, okay, Ric?”

“Meredith – “

“If you tell me right now that you feel nothing for Elena Gilbert, that seeing her and going to Mystic Falls changed nothing, then we’ll never talk about this again,” Meredith swore. “But if you _can’t_ , we need to have a conversation.”

Alaric swore long ago he would never lie to another woman he loved; he did not want to break that vow now. “I’m always going to feel _something_.”

“Yeah but what is it? Are you nostalgic? Regretful? Or do you miss her?”

“It’s complicated,” he lamely offered.

“We haven’t made love since we got back from Virginia.” When Alaric said nothing, she added, “It’s not that complicated, Ric.”

He closed his eyes in shame, resting his forehead against the heel of his hand. Gathering his composure, he said, “I love you. You know I love you.”

Meredith nodded, her black hair falling around her face. “And I love _you_. But I’m not the person you want, not really.”

Alaric wished she wasn’t as matter-of-fact as she was. Meredith was never one for screaming or causing a scene; everything in their lives she always handled with the same calm sense of rationality. It perversely made him long for Jenna and her screaming, for the sting of a palm against his cheek, for the cries of unfair play.

For the second time in 5 years, he called his parents and asked if he could stay with them until he found a place.

* * *

Elena lived off-campus with three other girls in a complex full of college students from the area. Alaric felt indescribably old as he walked through the courtyard, which was teeming with students who didn’t look old enough to drive let alone attend college. When he asked one of the girls which apartment was Elena’s, her gesture was beyond vague and so Alaric found himself knocking on three doors before a blonde girl with an orange fake-bake tan hollered over her shoulder, “’Lena, it’s for you!”

Elena appeared from around the corner, genuine shock on her face. “Alaric, what are you doing here?”

Glancing awkwardly at the blonde girl now watching them with interest, he shrugged. “I – um – I wanted to talk to you about some things.”

Elena hustled him down the hallway, ignoring her roommate who was requesting an introduction, and Alaric couldn’t help but smile at the small, single room which was hers. It was a third of the size of her bedroom at home, only enough room for a single bed, a desk, and a dresser that a small TV sat atop. Her walls were covered in pictures, most of which featured people Alaric didn’t recognize, and posters hid whatever white space remained. 

“You can sit,” Elena offered, gesturing to her small bed as she perched on the edge of her desk, shutting the screen of her laptop.

Alaric complied, sinking down onto the pretty floral bedspread, before confessing, “I had a speech planned in my head the entire drive here but it sounds really stupid now.”

“So just say what you need to say.”

“Meredith and I broke up.”

The words hung in the air for several moments, the silence deafening in the confined space, and for a minute, Alaric wondered if he had actually said the words aloud.

And then Elena squeaked, “Really?”

“Really.”

She was on him before he even realized what was happening, her fingers sliding through his hair as her mouth mashed against his. Alaric caught the rhythm easily, maneuvering them more fully onto the mattress, Elena in his lap as she tugged his sweater over his head before quickly shedding her shirt and bra.

He moaned her name as she arched her back, her hips pressing more firmly against his hardness, and she chuckled into his mouth, her lips sliding across the line of his jaw until they found his ear.

“If you ever try to leave again, I will rip that ring off your finger and kill you myself,” she panted, catching the soft cartilage between her teeth and tugging.

Alaric throbbed at the passion in her voice before quickly flipping their positions, no small feat in the tiny width of her bed. “Deal.”

It was a bitch to get her out of the skinny jeans she wore, made all the worse by the fact she would not stop touching him as he did so, splitting his attention past the breaking point. By the time Alaric was finally able to free them both of their clothing, Elena was grinning wickedly at his clumsiness and Alaric knew for certain he was going to marry Elena Gilbert.

Despite the way his body screamed in protest, Alaric forced himself to slow down, his lips tracing the lines of her legs. He pressed soft, wet kisses to her inner thighs and Elena whined, high and needy, in her throat as she spread her legs wider to accommodate him, body tight with anticipation.

They had never done this particular act before; there was so much they hadn’t done together.

Alaric was willing to spend the rest of his life rectifying that.

She tasted rich against his tongue, her arousal strong and heady, and Alaric could not help but moan against her flesh. Elena’s fingers tangled in his hair, trying to impatiently direct him to where she needed him most, and Alaric obediently sealed his lips around her clit, lashing the bud with his tongue as he sucked. She thrashed beneath him, her hips churning against the mattress and his hands, and then she was crying out his name in the sweetest shout he had ever heard.

As she came down, Alaric pressed honeyed kisses to her hip bones before ascending up her body. At her stomach, he paused, horrified by the ragged scar which now desecrated what had once been smooth, unblemished skin; he remembered the way she had touched her stomach in his office all those months ago when discussing the sacrifice, and the startling reality of what was almost lost hit him as he brushed soft kisses against the white tissue.

“I’m fine now,” Elena murmured, fingers combing the hair back from his face. “Battle was over a long time ago.”

She always knew what he was thinking before he did; Alaric had forgotten how much he missed that.

He sank inside her slowly, her tight heat enveloping him as Elena wound her legs around his hips, her nails biting briefly into his shoulder blades. For a moment they paused like that, taking in the feel of each other after so long, and then Alaric breathed, “Oh, God, I missed you.”

Her smile was brilliant. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

The sun was just rising over Durham when Elena stepped out on the balcony. Alaric had been sitting there for almost an hour; one of her roommate’s alcohol-induced vomiting woke him and he had been unable to fall back asleep.

She sat on his knee, tossing her legs across his lap and leaning back against his body; Alaric hugged her immediately, inhaling the scent of her hair as she tucked her head into the pocket between his head and shoulder.

“What happens now?” Elena asked quietly, her lips whisper soft against the tender skin of his neck.

“Whatever we want.”

Elena smiled, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “I want everything.”

It had been so long since Alaric had let himself want; he was stunned to realize he did too. Of course, he had wanted everything with Elena from the moment he first saw her; he just couldn’t believe it was actually a _possibility_.

No, he corrected himself. An _actuality_.

“Damon might kill you,” Elena warned as the sun breeched the horizon.

Alaric could not help but laugh. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

They would figure out the rest together.


End file.
